


The Duck Story

by UnfinishedBattle



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Surreal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:36:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23325622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnfinishedBattle/pseuds/UnfinishedBattle
Summary: A man on his way to work zones out on the Metrolink and finds himself in an unfamiliar location.





	The Duck Story

*RING* *RING* *RING* *RING*

“Uuuugggghhhh” was the only sound Elliot could muster as he woke up. He lifted his arm and blindly groped around for the source of the noise. He grabbed my phone and turned off the alarm. He was in bliss ten seconds ago, and going back there seemed like the most tempting thing in the world, but he knew better than that. He threw off the covers and dragged himself out of bed, the world putting itself together around him as his eyes slowly came into focus. After a quick shower and some breakfast, he was out the door. He must’ve done this same morning a million times now. Get up, get dressed, eat some toast, be out of the door within the hour. After the first few weeks, his body had started running it on autopilot. He no longer needed to properly pay attention and that’s what was happening this morning too. He had the timing down. Get on the tram at nine, get off around 9:20, walk the rest of the way and be at work by 9:35.

He did his usual walk to the tram stop, boarded and found a seat, off in his own world the whole time. 

“THIS IS A SERVICE TO ALTRINCHAM. THE NEXT STOP WILL BE HEATON PARK.”

All the service announcements went in one ear and out the other. Another thing he’d probably memorised, like all the details of the landscapes flying by or the moments when the tram would lean left or right ever so slightly.

“THIS IS A SERVICE TO ALTRINCHAM. THE NEXT STOP WILL BE QUEEN’S ROAD.” 

He was supposed to be getting off at St. Peter’s Square which, from where he’d boarded, was roughly a twenty-minute journey. More than enough time for a tired man to fall into near unconsciousness. By the time he got to Victoria station, he wasn’t exactly asleep, but he wasn’t fully awake either. The person who’d sat next to him and just gotten off, or was that a stop earlier?

“THIS IS A SERVICE TO ALTRINCHAM. THE NEXT STOP WILL BE SHUDEHILL.”  
“THIS IS A SERVICE TO ALTRINCHAM. THE NEXT STOP WILL BE MARKET STREET.”  
“THIS IS A SERVICE TO ALTRINCHAM. THE NEXT STOP WILL BE ST. PETER’S SQUARE.”  
“THIS IS A SERVICE TO ALTRINCHAM. THE NEXT STOP WILL BE ENTEN VON MONG.”

“Von Mong?” he thought, laughing to himself, “What kind of a place calls itself Von Mong?”

Wait… hang on… Oh shit!  
Suddenly, Elliot shot up fully awake and, after politely asking the man sat next to him to let him out, he ran for the closing doors and leapt out onto an unfamiliar platform. There was a tram on the other side of the platform that looked identical to the one he’d just exited, but it was already on it’s way out, as was the tram he’d just exited. Both trams left and Elliot suddenly found himself alone. Alone on an unfamiliar platform, in what seemed to be the woods. He had no idea how far away he was from St. Peter’s Square, but he couldn’t have gone more than one stop over. He looked around the empty area. It was a single elevated platform, surrounded by tracks on both sides. Beyond the old, rusty looking tracks on one side was a wall of trees. On the other, what looked like a path leading off the platform. It led down a grassy hill, towards what looked like a large manor house, encircled by trees.

“Y’all’right, love?” came a hoarse, high pitched voice from behind him. Elliot nearly jumped out of his skin. “You look a bit lost if you don’t mind me sayin’.”  
He turned around and a short looking woman was behind him. Middle-aged, a slight hunch and wearing thick, raggedy clothes.  
“Sorry… errr…--” he stuttered for a second, trying to think of a good response--“yeah, I guess I am, yeah.”  
“No wonder. You don’t look like you’re from round ‘ere,”  
“Err… sorry but, where exactly is here?”  
“Enten Von Mong.” She pointed in the direction of where Elliot’s tram had gone. “That way leads up to ‘evean and the other way... well crap, St. Peter’s Square from the look of it. Never been to that one.”  
“ Is there a map around here?”  
She pointed to a yellow sign at the centre of the platform. It was Metrolink branded but he could swear it hadn’t been there a second ago. He walked over to it and found that it was no help at all. All the text seemed to wiggle and move about and Elliot couldn’t read a word of it. He kept trying for a few seconds but eventually gave up.  
“Do you know when the tram to St. Peter’s is gonna get here?” he asked the old woman.  
“That one? Um, well…--” she looked at her watch and thought about it for a few seconds--“...It doesn’t sound like a common name, so it’ll probably be… two hours at least?”  
Elliot’s eyes widened.  
“Two hours!?”  
“At least, that sounds pretty reasonable for a stop like that.”  
“But I could walk there in that time!”  
“Maybe. But I wouldn’t recommend it, love. If you don’t know the way then you likely to get lost in the forest.”  
“Can’t I just follow the tracks?”  
“Heh! Good luck with that, love.”  
Elliot sighed in frustration and walked away. He reached the path leading down from the platform and then understood what the woman had meant. Once they leave the stop, the tracks multiply and spread in different directions as if this was a major station. He closed his eyes and groaned. Fine, he thought. He’d been late to work only once or twice times before, so being two hours late today shouldn’t come with too much of a penalty. He sighed again and decided to take a walk. He followed the path down, across a set of tracks and onto the grassy valley. It wasn’t visible from the stop, but there was actually a short drop between the meadow and the track area. He jumped down found a tiny, stone tunnel that led directly under the platform. It was tiny, maybe about as high as his waist. He couldn’t see where it lead, but he noticed there were tiny, matching train tracks leading out of it. They went straight for a few feet before heading back into an identical tunnel further along. Elliot simply raised his eyebrows and carried on down the valley.  
He’d been right earlier, there was a manor house down here. It was fairly big, built out of light-orange bricks and with large intimidating black doors. Curtains were drawn on all the windows so there was no way to see inside. Before turning back, he notices a slot in the door, which someone might pull open by the handle and slide a package through. He knocked on the door, no answer. He tried opening it, locked. He sighed again and took the long, empty walk back up to the platform. When he got there he noticed two trains pulled into the stop, then lots of people in high visibility clothing moving trolleys and co-ordinating each other. They seemed to be in a hurry, as none of them stopped to let him pass, or even seemed to notice him at all, really. He found an opening in the trolley line and jumped to a safe spot, where he found the woman watching the commotion.  
“Cargo trains, love. Looks like they’re in a bit of a hurry too.”  
“Hurry for what?”  
“Oh, big day, innit. We’ve got gods comin’ in today. Pretty soon, in fact.”  
“Gods?”  
“Oh yeah, lots of ‘em too. Gonna be a big one this morning.”  
Elliot decided not to question it. He hummed in response and continued to watch the cargo train workers.  
“By the way, what’s your name, love?”  
He was almost taken aback by the question.  
“Elliot. Elliot Crawford.”  
“Nice name,” she reached out for a handshake, and he reciprocated.  
“My name’s Bootley, pleasure to meet you,” she said with a smile.  
In a few minutes, the trains were fully packed up and ready to go. It was then that Elliot noticed something strange, or at least, something else strange. The cargo trains were on both sides of the platform, but they were facing the same direction. Then, one second later, they set off moving in the same direction. He hummed again. He moved over to the sudden, inexplicable seats that hadn’t been there a second ago and sat down, staring into space. He took out his phone and realised he’d been here half an hour. He could call work, but he’d didn’t have their numbers. There didn’t seem to be an internet connection either, so he couldn’t google it. He sighed again and slouched in the cold seat.  
What was that noise in the distance? It was coming from the same direction those cargo trains had come from. Sounds like a chugging, like a train! Elliot jumped up out of his seat and looked off into the distance.  
“Is that mine?” he asked no one in particular. Suddenly, Bootley was behind him again.  
“Not for you, no. Looks like this is the gods turnin’ up.”  
The train came out of from the treeline and Elliot could see it. It looked nothing like a regular train, even from this far away. From the front, it looked more like a tall, T-shaped block with lights and windows. As it got closer, Elliot realised just how fast it was going, and how loud it was screeching. He was standing still, frozen to the spot, while Bootley was looking around in a hurry.  
“Ah, crap. Alright, alright. It’s indicating our left, so we’ve gotta stay right,” she grabbed Elliot by the arm and dragged him over to the right side of the platform, as close to the edge as she could get, “Listen love, it’s very important that you do exactly as I do, and don’t say a word. Gods don’t like it much when us lot talk to ‘em uninvited.”  
All he could do was nod, and one second later, that loud, screaming train pulled into the stop at maximum speed. The wind alone would have been enough to knock you over. It didn’t even seem to slow down, it just went from top speed to stationary in a second. From the side, Elliot could see all the windows and seats were in the top half of the T-shape and the doors in the bottom half. Oh, how could this morning get any weirder, he thought to himself but in situations like this, it’s very important that that question never be asked, because one way or another, it will be answered. All the doors on the train opened suddenly and with perfect timing, and hundreds of small, feathered passengers spilt out.  
Ducks. The train was filled with hundreds- no, thousands of ducks. Mallard ducks of various age and genders all left the train at the same time and headed neatly towards the path, quacking as they did so. None of them seemed to acknowledge the pair of humans watching them go past, but they both stayed quiet anyway. The ducks passed in front of the train and headed down the path towards the manor house. Once they were all down and passing the train, Bootley breathed a sigh of relief. She gave him a thumbs-up, signalling it was safe to move. He took a step forward and breathed his own sigh of relief. He walked closer to the train, trying to get a look inside the door, but a goose jumped in the way, hissing at him.  
“Woah, Woah, Woah, sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, backing off with his hands raised.  
The goose kept hissing but didn’t advance on him any further. He walked back over to Bootley.  
“...So they’re ducks.”  
“Oi, be nice. Those are the gods you know.”  
“Since when was god a duck?”  
Bootley slapped him on the cheek.  
“It’s gods. Gods. And stop using that word, it’s rude,” she looked around quickly to make sure no ‘gods’ were within earshot, “listen, Elliot, if them lot hear that kinda disrespect, they’ll do you some serious harm, so trust me and don’t offend them! They’re the bosses round ‘ere, we do what they tells us.”  
“Okay,” said Elliot, trying to contain his laughter.  
“Alright, that’ll do for now,” she said, looking back at the train, which was starting to close its doors, “anyway, back over to the safe side, now!” She dragged him over again just as the train took off, again going from stationary to stop speed instantly as it screamed its way down the tracks.

Another half-hour passed in relative silence. Bootley would occasionally ask Elliot questions and he did his best to answer, but nothing much happened until someone new joined them on the platform. It was a girl in a high school uniform walking up the path. She looked fairly small, with dark blonde hair stretching down to her waist and covering half her face. The uniform was grey, with a yellow and red logo on the front pocket. Elliot swore he’d seen kids in that uniform on his morning commute. He never expected to find a high school student out here.  
“Oh ‘ello Kyra,” said Bootley, “haven’t seen you in ages.”  
“Hey Bootley, how’s it going?” They gave each other a quick kiss on the cheek and a hug. Then Bootley grabbed Elliot by the arm again and pulled him over.  
“I’d like you to meet Elliot Crawford. He’s here by mistake.”  
“Um, hi,” he said awkwardly, “I got off at the wrong stop, I’m just waiting for a tram back to St. Peter’s Square.” Kyra only seemed to be half-listening as she looked him over from top to bottom. Elliot got the impression that she was a bit older than she looked. She looked up at his eyes and then reached out her hand.  
“Nice to meet you Elliot, I’m Kyra,” she said with a welcoming smile. They shook hands and Elliot suddenly felt much more at ease.  
“Don’t worry,” she said, “Give it one more hour, you’ll be right back on track… so to speak.”  
“So, do you actually know where we are?” Elliot asked.  
“Enten Von Mong?” she answered, slightly puzzled.  
“Yeah, I know that bit, but, like, where we are because I’ve been doing that same tram route for over a year and I’ve never even heard of this place.”  
“And I’ve been keeping him safe while he’s here, haven’t I?” said Bootley, proudly.  
“Oh!” shouted Kyra, snapping her fingers, “I think I know what you mean. Err, how do I say it? This place is sort of... funnel-y.”  
“Funnel-y?”  
“Yeah, like, easy to get out of, but hard to get into, so most people don’t even know it’s here. Like a ghost station, some say.”  
“So what’re you doing here?”  
“I live here, ya dork.”  
“But this is a ghost station.”  
“Yeah, it’s a ghost station, and it right near where I live. Got a problem with that.”  
“Um… no, no. Guess not.”  
For all intents and purposes, she seemed normal, or at least, more normal than Bootley. There was too much here to question anyway. Where someone lives felt like the least of his worries.  
“I wouldn’t trust that bird if I were you!” came a hoarse voice from the other side of the platform. An old man was making his way up the path. He was bald, with a long beard and some missing teeth and wearing similar thicks rags to Bootley.  
“Oi, Snarl,” yelled Bootley, “you always gotta be a prick to the kids or what?”  
“She’s not a kid, I keep tellin’ ya!” he said louder. He pointed his finger in Eliot’s face. “And who’s this little fucker?!”  
“Err, Elliot,” he said, slightly nervous.  
“Elliot, huh? Elliot,” he continued steppping close to him until he could smell the man’s breath. Kyra quickly stepped in front of him, staring up at Snarl from chest height.  
“Leave him alone, Snarl,” she threatened with a stern voice.  
He smirked and stepped back, waggling his finger at the two of them.  
“Knew it,” he said, then grabbed Bootley by the arm and turned both their backs to them. “How’d you know they’re not both you-know-whats?”  
It was hard to tell with her back turned, but Bootley looked insulted.  
“Because I know what the gods look like ya div!”  
“You think we’re ducks!?” Elliot exclaimed. He’d seen some weird stuff today, but this took the cake. Bootley shot him an angry look, “Sorry, gods,” he corrected.  
“They’re not gods,” said Snarl, “they’re feathery little bastards and you’re one’ve‘em, and so are you,” he pointed at both Elliot and Kyra when Bootley smacked him on the back of the head.  
“Don’t be so bloody paranoid--” she held her grip on the back of his head, forcing him to bow in the direction of Elliot and Kyra--“now leave them alone or you’ll have me to deal with.” She released her grip and Snarl walked off to the other set of seats.  
“Thanks for that,” said Elliot, as Kyra gave her a pat on the arm.  
“You should be careful around that one, love. He’s threatened our Kyra before.”  
“It’s really nothing I can’t deal with,” said Kyra, seemingly unfazed, “and you know it really is okay to say ducks.”  
Bootley pointed a sharp finger at Kyra, “Don’t use that bloody word! It’s rude, don’t ya know!”  
Kyra just laughed. It was a laugh so infectious that Elliot and Bootley couldn’t help but join in.  
“I know he’s a prick,” said Bootley, “but he’s really not that bad of a guy.”  
“Well, you could’ve fooled me,” said Elliot.  
“Oh you’ve found your sense of humour love,” she excalimed, “Took you long enough.”  
The three were laughing so much that they almost didn’t hear the rumbling. Kyra was the first to hear it and put her hand up to the other two to silence them. Then they other two listened and heard a high pitched screeching.  
“Crap,” said Bootley.  
“It’s coming from this side. On the left but it doesn’t look like its gonna stop,” said Kyra, looking down the rails.  
“There’s one this side too!” said Elliot.  
“What?”  
“I said there’s one this side too.”  
“Crap,” said Bootley.  
Kyra ran over to Elliot and saw the same thing.  
“Doesn’t look like it’s gonna stop either. Oh fuck.”  
“What do we do?”  
“Crap,” said Bootley.  
Kyra looked around the whole platform worried, then snapped her fingers, “The centre! Come on, get into the centre, now!”  
All three of them ran to the exact centre of the platform and Kyra pulled them all down into a crouch.  
“Cover your ears loves,” said Bootley, who looked over to Snarl, still sat over at the far bench, “Snarl, get over here now, come on!”  
Snarl didn’t react. Did he just not hear her, or did he just not care? Either way, there was no time to grab him.  
“Nearly there,” said a worried looking Kyra, “three... two… one…”

The noise of the two trains was overwhelming. Screeching and roaring on all sides for what felt like an hour. At one point, Elliot swore he felt something whiz by his both is ears, just inches away. Bootley was right next to them but they could barely hear her screams of “CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!”. It felt like it would go on for hours, but it did eventually end. All three of them breathed deeply at the same time. Kyra tried to stand up but fell onto her back, still breathing deeply. The other two stood up successfully but exhaustedly.  
“Everybody alright?” asked Bootley, “Kyra?--” she raised her arm into the air to give a thumbs up--“Elliot?--” he nodded-- “Snarl… Snarl?!”  
There was no response from Snarl, so the three picked themselves up moved over to wear Snarl had been sitting. He wasn’t there anymore. Completely vanished apart from a pair of still smoking boots where his feet had been.  
“Ah,” said Kyra.  
“What do we do?” asked Elliot.”  
“I dunno.”  
“Bootley stepped forwards.  
“Only thing we can I suppose,” she said, “we’ll take the shoes down to the manor and give him back to the gods. It’s what he woulda wanted.”  
“Is it?” asked Elliot and Kyra together. Bootley sighed and picked up the shoes.  
“No, but it’s what he’s getting so tough shit.”  
The three walked down to the manor together. None of them said much but when they reached the building they heard faint music from inside.  
“What are they doing in there?” asked Elliot.  
“Dunno,” answered Kyra, “Early morning dance party?”  
Bootley opened up the slot in the front door and got ready to send the boots inside. Through the hole, the three could hear the sound of ducks quacking, and music. It sounded like disco.  
“Nice knowin’ ya, Snarl. Hope the gods treat you better than you treated them.” She slid the boots down through the door and closed the hatch. “Fuckin’ prick.”  
The three made the walk back up to the platform quietly, then sat and waited quietly. About forty minutes went by and not much was said. Eventually, they head the screeching again, this time only coming from one side. Almost like it was routine, they got up and moved to the safe side of the platform. The screeching train arrived and opened its doors. Nothing happens for a few minutes, but then the ducks start to arrive. They came up off the path and entered the train the same way they’d exited. At least a thousand, it must’ve been, thought Elliot.  
“Right, us too,” said Kyra, putting her bag over her shoulder.  
“Wait, what?”  
“This one can get us back to St. Peter’s Square. Aren’t you coming?”  
“I tried, on the last one, the goose kicked me off.”  
“Language, love,” interjected Bootley.  
Kyra laughed, “That’s cause you didn’t show him your ticket, you moron,” she pulled out a Metrolink ticket and showed it to the goose, who let her pass.  
“I’ll see you some other time, Bootley,” she waved from the doorway.  
“Till next time, love,” Bootley waved back, “and once again, nice to meet you, Elliot. Sorry about Snarl.”  
“I feel like I should be saying that to you, but yeah. Nice to meet you too.” He gave her a quick hug and then ran to the train. The goose hissed at him before he pulled out his ticket. The goose inspected it and then stood back to left him on. The doors closed behind him ad it looked like he was in a thin, dark purple corridor, with metal spiral staircases every few feet. The train started moving suddenly and Elliot was thrown off his balance. He gripped the nearest staircase for support. There was no sign of Kyra, so he decided to climb it. At the top, he found himself in a passenger carriage. Almost every seat was taken, some by ducks, some by humans. Immediately he spotted Kyra, waving to him from a window seat.  
“Saved you a seat,” she said, tapping the empty seat next to her.  
“Cheers. So how long is this ride gonna be? Cause it’s only one stop but I was really zoned out.”  
“Oh, it should only be a few minutes… oh, Jesus--” she stood up and brushed the duck feathers off the seat--“I think whoever sat here last was moulting.”  
Elliot laughed and brushed the feathers off his own seat as well. He looked around the train at the other passengers. Mostly ducks but a few humans as well, all minding their own business.  
The train jolted violently. Elliot felt like he’d just been lifted out of his seat, but no one else seemed to react. Then it happened again. He’d never been inside a vehicle that moved this fast. He looked outside the window and the landscape outside was a blur. As the train shook and jolted from side to side, Elliot began to feel sick to his stomach. He gripped the seat in front of him and hunched forward, holding his stomach. He looked up again and looked at one of the ducks. With a noise that sounded like a helium balloon having it’s air squeezed out, the duck transformed into a human. Elliot hunched over again.  
“Elliot, are you okay?” asked Kyra, putting a hand on his back. He couldn’t talk for fear of throwing up so he made a gesture and a noise. As he did, he heard other helium balloons going off around him.  
“There’s a water fountain downstairs, let’s get you there,” she said, holding onto his arm. They both stood up and carefully made their way down the spiral staircase. Elliot didn’t bother to count how many ducks had just become people, nor did he care that the water fountain hadn’t been there when he’d boarded the train, it was there now, so he used it. As he was drinking, he felt the train slow down and jolt one last time as it stopped.  
“Oh,” said Kyra, “looks like this is your stop.”  
“What?”  
The solid purple doors opened and Elliot looked out, realising they were pulled into St. Peter’s Square.  
“Get out already!” he heard her yell before he felt a shoe kick him up the arse. He stumbled out of the train and onto the platform. He turned around and saw Kyra standing in the doorway. She quickly re-adjusted her skirt as another duck feather fell out of it. Then she smiled brightly and waved at him. A few other people also got off the train and went their own ways.  
“Nice to meet you, Elliot, I’ll see you again soon, okay!”

“THIS IS A SERVICE TO ALTRINCHAM. THE NEXT STOP WILL BE DEANSGATE-CASTLEFIELD.” 

He awkwardly waved back as the doors closed between them. The train started up again and pulled out of St. Peter’s Square, and Elliot stared at it, dumbfounded. He slowly looked around at the rest of the platform. No one else seemed to notice or care about the giant monster train full of ducks and geese. It was like any other day for them. He looked up at the clock. 9:30. The time he would have arrived if he’d gotten off the tram when he was supposed to. No time had passed at all. With every second he became more and more confused, so he stopped and took a deep breath. He still had a chance to get to work on time. Who he had to thank for that miracle he had no idea. Kyra? The ducks? Bootley? I guess it doesn’t matter, I can found out later, he thought as he set off towards his office. 

As he walked away, a flock of geese flew by overhead. They would probably appear as tourists later in the day but don’t be alarmed. They’re just birds. You keep their secrets and they’ll keep yours.


End file.
